


Into The Darkness

by Kalgalen



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Suicide mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 23:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4369223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalgalen/pseuds/Kalgalen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Locus makes a mistake, and the world disappears in a torrent of fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into The Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Short thing about redgraveconspiracy‘s blind!Locus headcanon!

Locus makes a mistake, and the world disappears in a torrent of fire.

Locus rages at first, curses his fate and the military medic that bring him the news in the same string of insults. He fumes, strapped to the hospital bed (for his own good, or so they say.) He sees red, even though he can’t see anything but the darkness that bear witness of his failure.

After the anger subsides, he tries begging. Anything that can give him his eyes back, he’ll do it. No matter how painful the treatment will be, he’ll take it. Anything. The medics talk to him in soft, compassionate voices, say that no possible operation could give him his vision back - and he wants to hurt them for it, wants to tear them apart for showing pity for him. He’s not fragile, he’s not  _feeble!_

He locks himself up in silence after that, dwelling on how he could have -  _should have_  - avoided the bomb, or at least have the decency to die in the explosion. His dreams are full of colors, the green and orange of the armors, the rich brown of the dirt under his feet, the red of the blood spilled on the ground. He only sees violence and death during the nights, but it is still better than the stark black that surrounds him during the days. He thinks - once or twice, like an alluring answer he knows he doesn’t want to give - about suicide. What use is he now? What purposed does he serve, blind soldier in a war still blazing? Isn’t taking his own life preferable to waiting for the enemy to come and slice his throat?

He won’t die in a bed. He  _can’t_.

And then Felix comes. Unforeseen, undesired, smelling of sweat and Kevlar and of the coppery, dull smell Locus has come to associate with blood a long time ago. Felix comes and sits beside his bed, uncharacteristically silent. Locus can still feel him though, warm and bright by his side, and after a few minutes only filled by the low buzzing sound of the machines, Locus gives up.

“What do you want?”

Felix is smiling, he can tell. He can visualize the grin on Felix’s face, the way his mouth stretches wickedly and makes the corner of his eyes wrinkle.

“You look like shit.”

Locus growls, low and menacing.

“Did you come here to mock me? I am not in the mood.”

The chair Felix is sitting on squeaks when he shifts, leaning closer.

“Mock you? C'mon, Locs. I wouldn’t kick you while you’re down.”

Locus raises an eyebrow. The bandage covering his wounds hides the motion, but Felix seems to get the idea.

“Okay, under any other circumstances, I would.”

The chair creaks again, betraying Felix’s nervousness. Locus hears him take a sharp intake of breath.

“Are you okay?”

Locus doesn’t answer directly, surprised by the sudden concern he can perceive in Felix’s voice. He opens his mouth to answer “I will be”, but what comes out instead is:

“No.”

No, he isn’t “okay”. He is so far from okay he doubts he’ll ever be okay again. The realization makes him fall silent once again, awaiting and fearing Felix’s judgment.

He twitches when warm fingers graze against the thick dressing wrapped around his head and caress his cheek in an almost tender manner. He shivers, the touch unexpected but oh so welcome, and instinctively leans into it.

“Does it hurt?”

Locus never imagined Felix’s voice could be so gentle. Whereas the quiet tones of the medics have only made his feel pitied and feeble, Felix’s makes him feel at peace. Felix understands his loss and mourns with him.

Locus just shakes his head in response, nuzzling against Felix’s palm. Felix sighs.

“Okay. Good.”

They stay in silence for what it feet like hours, Locus breathing in the smell of Felix’s skin and Felix’s thumb distractedly brushing against Locus’ cheek.

“Hey, Locus?”

Locus hums to encourage him to continue.

“We should ditch this place.”

 


End file.
